


Kairos

by Anteros (nightmare_doll)



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Autistic Character, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12269892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmare_doll/pseuds/Anteros
Summary: Opportunities arise when least expected. After attempting to kill himself, Connor finds that he gets a second chance at having a decent life. After lying about being Connor's friend, Evan finds that maybe they aren't so different after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What's up my dudes here have some crap writing. I'll probably update in like a week I've got the second chapter written but since I have a really inconsistent writing schedule I gotta give myself extra time to write chapters. Also huge thanks to my friend tyler for making it so the swear words aren't all just heck.

Evan wakes up extra early on the first day of school. He does this every year, since the first day is the most stress inducing, so having extra time to prepare for the day calms him down a bit. Not a lot, but a bit. He chose an outfit last night so he wouldn’t have to worry about it in the morning, but he finds himself doubting his choice of clothing anyway. It’s the first day of school, good appearances are essential. After a couple minutes stressing about it, he decides to just wear what he had picked out. It’s not like anyone will pay enough attention to him to care what he’s wearing, or at least that’s what he tells himself to stop worrying. It doesn’t help that much. Then he worries about how he'll find his way to his classes, even though he knows where all the classrooms are since he’s gone to this school for three years. But what if he suddenly forgets and doesn’t know where to go? Then he’ll have to ask someone else, and they’ll think he’s a complete idiot because he’s a senior who doesn’t know where the science department is or something. Then the whole school will learn and Zoe Murphy will never go out with because she’s so amazing she would never date an idiot who can’t even find his way to his classes. His thoughts spiral, and he tries to calm down. He mentally reviews where the classes are, and he finds that he knows where they all are. He’s got this. Well, sort of. Not being able to find his classes isn’t his only worry. He’s worried his teachers won’t like him, and if his teachers don’t like him then it will be even harder to talk to them than it would be if they liked him, which is still very hard. He’s worried he won’t have any classes with Jared, because even if Jared isn’t really his friend, he’s all Evan’s got and having a family friend in his class is better than not. He’s also worried that he’ll embarrass himself in front of Zoe Murphy again, because he did that last year and she probably thinks he’s some awkward weirdo which is true but not what he wants his dream girl to think of him. He takes a deep breath, trying to block out the thoughts swirling around in his head. He fails, but the thoughts are at least quieter. He sets his laptop in front of him, and opens up a word document. After a moment considering what to write, he starts typing.

“Dear Evan Hansen, today is gonna be an amazing day and here's why,” he types out, stopping once he realizes he doesn’t know how to continue. He considers some scenarios of how the day could go, and none of them lead to an amazing day. But his mom and therapist are relying on him to write this letter, so he pulls something out of thin air and continues typing. “Because, you are very handsome. You have great,” Evan stops again, considering what about his appearance might be considered handsome. He’s never considered himself an attractive person, so he can’t think of anything to write. Briefly he considers writing about his hair, but then he remembers he hates his hair. He decides to simply put down the first physical feature that pops in his head, and rolls with it.. “Ears. Like beautiful seashells on your head. It's a great head, a nice, round, head.” Evan inwardly cringes and deletes the last sentence. He continues stressing over the letter for the next five minutes, adding and deleting and making things up because he's sure today will not be a great day, and then deletes the letter entirely. He still has an hour before school starts, so he might as well attempt that again.

“Dear Evan Hansen, today is going to be a good day and here's why: Because you just have to be yourself. And also confident, that’s important. And interesting. Easy to talk to. Approachable. But mostly be yourself that’s number one.” Evan stops writing, and figures that maybe this letter isn’t going the best, but he decides to just keep writing to take up space. He can fix it later. “Also don’t worry about if your hands are going to get sweaty like at the jazz band concert last year when you were gonna talk to Zoe Murphy and be super casual and act like you don’t even know who she is - although of course you know who she is, she’s the most amazing, talented, and beautiful girl in the universe - but you didn’t even talk to her because you were worried that your hands were sweaty so you tried to dry them with the hand dryer in the bathroom but then they were just sweaty and warm.” Evan stares blankly at the run-on sentence he’d typed out. He shakes his head, trying to forget about that incident. Of course he would ramble in his letter about a stupid thing that happened a year ago. This is ridiculous. A second later, his bedroom door opens and he slams his laptop shut, hoping his mom won't see his mess of a letter.

“Hey honey, are you ready for your first day of senior year?” His mom asks excitedly. He simply nods. She goes on, “I wish I could stay around longer, but I've got work.”

“It's fine, you should get going.”

“You were supposed to eat yesterday,” she informs him, and his stomach drops. She holds up the twenty dollar bill he was supposed to use to order food yesterday. He hates these conversations.

“Oh, I, um, I wasn't hungry,” Evan stammers. He can tell his mom doesn’t believe him.

“You're 17, almost 18 years old, Evan,” his mom sighs, moving to sit down on the bed next to him. “You need to be able to order yourself some food. And you can order it online so you don't have to talk on the phone. Isn't that great?”

“Well it would be, but I still have to talk to people,” Evan explains. “I have to talk when they deliver the food and then give them a tip. And since all I have is the twenty I'd have to wait for them to make change and stand there in silence or think of something to say.” Evan panics slightly at the thought of how those interactions might go. “And then I'd have to take bag and make sure not to touch the other person’s hand.”

“This is why you're seeing Dr. Sherman, so you can learn to interact with people,” Heidi reminds him. “I know it's scary and hard, but you can't give up.” Heidi smiles and Evan feels guilty since he'll never live up to her expectations. “If you just put in more effort I know you can talk to people! And they'll want to talk to you too!”

“Yeah well the pizza delivery guy isn't going to want to talk to me,” Evan replies. He thinks it’s a fair point, they would only be there because it’s their job, but Heidi frowns.

“You don't know that,” Heidi says. Evan merely rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, you have an appointment with Dr. Sherman after school. I'll pick you up.”

“Great,” Evan says, his voice lacking emotion.

“Have you been writing those letters to yourself?” Heidi asks. “You know, Dear Evan Hansen, this is gonna be a good day and here's why!”

“I started one.” Heidi frowns again, clearly disappointed he isn’t trying harder to get them done. He quickly adds, “I'll finish it at school and I can print it out in the computer lab.”

“Those letters are important, they'll help you build your confidence,” she tells him. “I don't want another year of you sitting around on your computer telling me you have no friends. “

“Neither do I,” Evan laughs slightly. Heidi smiles at him, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out a sharpie.

“Here,” she says, handing him the sharpie. “You can get other people to sign your cast!” she explains enthusiastically. “That would be the perfect ice breaker, right?”

“Right,” Evan agrees, even though both of them knew he wasn't excited about the idea. Heidi laughs nervously.

“Yeah, I know I'm such a nightmare,” she jokes. Evan rolls his eyes and smiles slightly. “But you've gotta put yourself out there and let people see how great you are!”

“Sure.”

“You know, this year could be great,” Heidi encourages him. “This year things might come together, you might make some friends! I promise it will get better this year!” Evan simply smiles at his mom’s enthusiasm. He doesn't feel like things will get better, but he guesses once you've hit rock bottom at least you can't get any worse. Heidi is still going on about how his year will be great. “Remember last year, when you got sick right before your school dance? Maybe that sort of thing isn't going to happen again!” Evan remembers that, and he remembers being grateful that he didn't have to go to the school dance. Jared had pressured him into going. He’d been dreading it. “Evan, I think this year you should give yourself a chance.”

“Yeah,” Evan tells her, knowing full well he could never give himself a chance. Any chances he's ever had he's messed up. Heidi leaves the room and Evan takes a deep breath. He tucks the sharpie away in his pocket and then goes downstairs to get breakfast and prepare to face this new year.

* * *

If there's one thing Connor hates, it's the first day of school. Cynthia is always insisting he doesn't skip the first day, but as soon as he walks into school, it's hell. People whisper as he walks by or just run out of the hall, too scared to even be near him. People taunt him, try to pick fights, insult him, and he has to pretend like it doesn't bother him because the last thing he'll give them is the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. He wishes that the same insults being repeated to him each year would have desensitized him to them by now, but he’s had no such luck.

He knows he'll be forced to go, so he might as well get high. Maybe then his mom will be too embarrassed by him to let him go to school. He'll get in trouble for it later, but it’s worth it now. Besides, he’s got pills in his drawer and he lost the will to live a long time ago. Might as well live life to the fullest before it ends.

He gets dressed, struggling into his binder, then pulling on a dark shirt and a brown jacket. The long sleeves cover the scars all over his arms. No one questions the fact that he hasn't worn short sleeves since he was a freshman, not even his family. His family is just as clueless about him as everyone at school.

Connor is tired while walking downstairs. He's high and just doesn't give a fuck about what his family might say. He doubts it will be any worse than normal. Zoe and Larry are already sitting at the table, eating cereal and avoiding talking. Zoe’s flipping through a book, and Larry’s invested in his phone. Connor joins them, and Cynthia hands him a bowl.

“We're having a family breakfast to start the year,” she tells him cheerily. He ignores her, and pours himself cereal and milk. There’s only a couple drops of milk left in the carton. The table is silent for a while. Cynthia is busying herself making coffee, Larry is still looking through his emails, and Zoe is still reading. Connor finds himself unable to eat, so he simply pushes the cereal around in the bowl. The silence is awkward and strained, but nothing they aren't used to. Eventually it's broken by an attempt at small talk by Cynthia. It’s always Cynthia, she seems to think that this family isn’t as broken as it is.

“Connor, have you considered cutting your hair?” she asks. “It's getting awfully long.”

“Yeah,” Larry agrees, not even bothering to look at Connor. “Maybe you won't get called a girl as much if it's shorter.” Connor shoots him a glare, but Larry still isn’t paying attention to him. “You can’t blame people for thinking that when you’re not even trying to look like a boy anymore.” Cynthia lets out a slight gasp at that, and Zoe looks up from her book.

“Fuck off.” Larry seems to be about to reprimand him, but Cynthia changes the subject.

“So are you guys excited?” she asks, feigning enthusiasm. No one replies. “Connor’s a senior and Zoe’s a junior now. They're growing up so quickly!”

“Yeah, we're all surprised Connor didn't drop out of high school already,” Zoe laughs. “Although he skips so often that he pretty much has.”

“Zoe don't pick at your brother like that,” Cynthia sighs. Zoe rolls her eyes and Connor glares at her. She ignores him and picks up her book again.

“By the way, I'm not going to school today,” Connor adds. Cynthia looks displeased with him. He adds, “I'll go tomorrow.” It's a lie. If things go well, he’ll be dead by tomorrow.

“It's your senior year, Connor,” Cynthia sighs. “You can't miss the first day.” Connor scoffs and looks away from her.

“I'm not feeling good,” he says. It's not a lie, his head hurts and he wants to die more than usual.

“He's hungover,” Zoe adds. Larry doesn't look surprised and Cynthia just looks disappointed. Their looks just make Connor angry.

“Fuck you,” he spits at Zoe.

“Larry, are you gonna get involved on this or just keep going through your emails?” Cynthia pointedly asks her husband. Larry doesn't answer her, still scrolling through his phone. Cynthia repeats, “Larry?” Her voice is more stern, and Larry sighs.

“You have to go to school, Connor,” is his reply. He doesn't even look up and Cynthia looks dejected.

“That's all you're gonna say?” she demands, exasperated. Larry finally looks up at her, his eyes burning with annoyance.

“He doesn't listen,” is his reply, and Connor’s fists clench in anger. His parents are aware he's right here, right? “Look at him, he's not listening.” Larry glares at him, then adds, “He's probably high.” Zoe scoffs.

“He's definitely high.” Connor flips her off.

“He is not high,” Cynthia insists, before giving Connor a long look. “You're not high.” Connor laughs at that and her face falls. “You are not going to school high, Connor, we've talked about this.”

“Okay, then I won't go,” Connor replies. “Thanks, mom.” He stands up from the table and heads to his room. No one protests, although Cynthia gives him another disappointed look. Connor’s used to it, he is the family disappointment after all. After years and years of letting his family down, he stopped caring. They stopped caring too.

He can hear his family complaining. Larry complains about traffic. Zoe complains about the milk, which is just her reaching for something to complain about because she is lactose intolerant for fucks sake.

He checks his desk drawer to make sure that the pills are still there. Thankfully, they are. He's been worried about his parents finding them, but he'd hidden them in a pair of socks so they wouldn't be easily spotted if they checked his room. Connor glances at his reflection and gives himself a grim smile.

“This will all be over soon.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended up posting this earlier then I was planning because who cares about having a consistent posting schedule. The next chapter will probably take longer to post because I don't have it finished yet. And after that chapter I can get more into plot.
> 
> Also: suicide attempt warning for this chapter. It's not graphic but if you know it's not good for your health to read it then please don't.

Evan walks to school. The bus is too crowded and noisy, his mom is always too busy to drive him, and Jared would probably refuse him a ride if he asked. Besides, it's calming to be alone. It gives him time to prepare for the day and hope his hands don't end up sweaty by the time he's at school. And the school is only a five minute walk from his house, so it's not too far. He arrives at school and heads to his locker. He’s clutching his schedule, double checking that he knows where all his classes are. (He does, of course, but it doesn't hurt to make sure once, twice, thrice.) When he's at his locker he fumbles while putting in his combination, and messes it up. He tries again, and the door clicks open. He takes out his binder then shoves his bag in the locker. After closing the door, he turns around to see a girl standing right next to him, just too close, and he jumps in surprise.

“Hi! I'm Alana Beck.” she says brightly. Evan tries to figure out if she's talking to someone else since he doesn't know her, but seeing as he's pressed up against some lockers there can't be anyone behind him for her to be speaking to. “You're Evan Hansen, right? How was your summer?” Evan is beyond confused about why she’s talking to him, and he barely manages to squeeze out a response.

“Oh it was-”

“Mine was productive,” Alana cuts him off. She doesn't seem to be trying to be rude, so he figures she just didn't hear him. Or doesn't care what he has to say. That's more likely. “I did three internships and ninety hours of community service. I know, wow. And even then I still managed to make some great friends, well, acquaintances.” Evan isn't sure what to say for a bit, so instead he looks at her and nods slightly to acknowledge he heard her. She's pretty, but her smile is too wide and her eyes have a barely contained desperation. He isn't sure what to think of that.

“Oh, um, that's impressive.” Evan wishes he could say something else, but he's not sure what to say. Then he remembers the sharpie tucked in his pocket. Alana starts to walk away, but Evan gathers his courage and blurts out, “Would you, uh, maybe… Um do you want to sign my cast?” She gasps, finally noticing his arm.

“Oh my God,” she exclaims, “What happened to your arm?” she sounds genuinely concerned, and Evan wonders for a second if maybe someone cares.

“Oh, well I broke it,” he tells her. “See I was climbing a tree-”

“Oh really?” she interrupts. Evan wonders why he thought she cared. “My grandma broke her hip this summer. The doctors said that was the beginning of the end, cause then she died.” For a second, Alana looks sad, but she quickly regains her blinding smile. “Happy first day!” She walks off, leaving Evan to ponder if that would be considered a good conversation or not until someone taps on his shoulder.

“Is it weird to be the first person in history to break their arm from jerking off, or do you consider that an honor?” Evan starts, and quickly looks around to make sure no one else heard that.

“Wait… What?” he whisper-yells. “I wasn't doing that.” Jared laughs at his clear distress.

“Paint me the picture,” he starts, causing Evan to internally groan at whatever Jared is about to say. “You're in your bed, you've got Zoe Murphy’s Instagram up on your weird, off-brand cell phone-”

“That is not what happened,” he insists. Jared still seems disbelieving, so he elaborates. “I.. Um, I was climbing a tree and I fell…” Jared stares at Evan, dumbfounded.

“You fell out of a tree…” he repeats, laughing. “What are you, an acorn?”

“Well, you see I worked at Ellison State Park as a Junior Ranger this summer, I'm kind of a tree expert, not to brag,” Evan explains. Jared doesn't seem impressed. In fact he seems to be holding back laughter. Evan quickly goes on. “Anyway I was climbing this forty foot tall tree and.. I fell.”

“Wow.”

“Well it's a funny story,” Evan continues in an effort to keep up the conversation. He knows he's rambling, but his mind is going back to that day, and he doesn't want to think too hard about it. “See, there was a solid ten minutes after I fell where I was thinking ‘any minute now they're gonna come’ and I was laying on the ground…” Evan trails off. Jared looks at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Did they?”

“No, no one came,” Evan replies quickly, laughing nervously. “That's what's funny.” It occurs to him that isn't exactly funny, just pathetic. Another thing Jared can make fun of him for. Jared stares at him for a second before bursting into laughter.

“Jesus Christ,” he exclaims. Evan shifts uncomfortably, regretting telling Jared anything. He then tries to bring the conversation away from himself.

“W-well, how was,” he stutters, “did you have a good summer?” Jared stops laughing and considers the question.

“Well my bunk dominated in capture the flag,” he boasts, “And I got third-base-below-the-bra with this girl from Israel who’s gonna be in the army. So, yeah.” He laughs, clearly proud of his story. Evan figures anything is better than falling out of a tree. “I think that answers your question.” Jared seems done with their conversation at that point, and he starts walking away. Evan grabs the sharpie and holds it out.

“Do you, uh, want to sign my cast?” Evan regrets the words as soon as they tumble out of his lips. Of course Jared doesn't want to.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Well, since we're friends I thought…” Evan stops talking once he realizes Jared doesn't seem interested in what he has to say. He's watching Evan with pure amusement, like Evan’s every mess up is the funniest thing ever. It probably is.

“We're family friends,” he explains, emphasizing the word family to get his point across, “That's completely different and you know it.” He laughs, like the thought that Evan could possibly think they're friends is downright ridiculous. Evan figures that's true. Jared claps a hand on his shoulder. “Hey make sure to tell your mom to tell my mom I was nice to you, or my parents won't pay for my car insurance.” Evan nods mutely, and Jared removes his hand, before noticing someone behind Evan. His eyes light up with a malicious amusement.

“Oh hey Connor,” he shouts, and Evan’s stomach fills with dread as he turns around to face the newcomer. “I'm loving the new hair length, very school shooter chic.” Jared laughs at his own joke, clearly proud of it. Evan hates it. Connor is simply glaring at Jared, causing Jared to lose the small amount of courage he had. “I was kidding, it's a joke,” he explains. Evan wishes Jared would just think things through before saying them.

“Yeah, no, I know,” Connor deadpans. “It was funny, I'm laughing, can't you tell.” Connor says all of this so calmly Evan could almost believe it doesn't affect him, but he knows better. The calm Connor displays is almost as scary as his normal behavior. Connor takes a threatening step forward, and Jared backs up a bit. “Am I not laughing hard enough for you?” Connor says, louder this time, clearly losing his cool. Jared just waves it off, though Evan knows he's terrified.

“Jeez, you're such a freak,” Jared mutters, then walks away, leaving Evan standing alone in a silent hall with Connor Murphy. The silence is deafening, almost suffocating Evan, twisting around him until he can't breathe, drowning him. He hates it, he can't stand it, so he breaks it with a nervous laugh. Connor’s gaze fixes on him, fire burning in his eyes, and Evan knows he made a mistake.

“What are you fucking laughing at?” he spits at Evan, who backs away from him and protests. “You think I'm a freak?” he yells, advancing towards Evan. Evan shakes his head. “I'm not a freak!” Evan braces himself for disaster, which comes in the form of Connor shoving him, hard, into the lockers behind him. “You're the fucking freak!” Connor storms past him, seething, a perfect show of destruction and chaos and rage and pain.

Everything hurts. His arm is aching in his cast, and his back hurts where it hit the lockers. He cradles his cast, and wishes he could just melt into the lockers and forget anything ever happened. He’s glad Connor was the only one in the hall, surely people would be muttering about how weak and lame Evan is if they were here. Actually, Evan can hear footsteps running towards him, so he tries to lift himself up off the ground. He's met with the sight of Zoe Murphy, a.k.a Connor’s sister, a.k.a the most amazing girl ever, running towards him with a worried look in her eyes. Evan wishes he could just disappear right now. Of course of all people, Zoe, the girl he'd liked since he was a sophomore, would see that.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” she asks and Evan just mutely nods. He's too stunned that the Zoe Murphy is talking to him to be able to respond. “I saw my brother push you. He's a psychopath.” She says that with a venom that causes Evan to wonder why she hates Connor so much. Although seeing as Connor just pushed him into some lockers, Evan isn't actually all that surprised. “You're Evan, right?” Zoe asks, drawing Evan out of his thoughts and leaving him wondering how she knows who he is.

“Evan?” he repeats lamely. His brain is short-circuiting, and he doesn't know what to say. Zoe gives him a confused look. Of course, now she thinks he's crazy.

“Isn't that your name?”

“Yeah you're right it's Evan!” he rushes to exclaim. “Sorry.”

“Why’d you apologize?” she asks, puzzled.

“Well, you said Evan and I, well I repeated it and it's just so annoying when people do that,” he explains hurriedly. She smiles lightly at him. It makes him feel like he's floating.

“Well, I'm Zoe,” she introduces herself, holding out her hand. He’s about to shake her hand, but then it occurs to him his hands might be sweaty and if his hands are sweaty then she'll never go out with him and he'll be alone forever. He withdraws his hand to wipe it on his shirt, and she drops her hand as well. Correction: no matter what, he'll be alone forever.

“Yes, I know,” Evan says, deeply regretting it. Zoe gives him a look of confusion. Great, now he looks like a stalker.

“You know?”

“I've seen you play guitar in jazz band!” he elaborates, “I love jazz, well not all jazz but definitely jazz band jazz, that's so weird I'm sorry.” His words blur together, but Zoe actually laughs, and Evan thinks his world just got a little brighter. He made Zoe Murphy laugh, and it sounded heavenly.

“You don't have to keep apologizing,” she giggles.

“Sorry,” Evan replies on instinct. “Uh, I mean…” he stops talking to avoid embarrassing himself more in front of Zoe. She's gathering herself up to leave, and Evan makes a quick decision. He holds out his sharpie as she starts walking away.

“Do you wanna sign my cast?” he asks as she says, “Well if you're fine I've gotta go.” He quickly pulls the sharpie back to his chest as she turns to him.

“You were saying something?” he says, hoping she isn't gonna think he's dumb for asking her to sign his cast. Although his words were probably unintelligible so she didn't understand anyway.

“I didn't say anything, you said something,” she tells him. He nervously laughs.

“No way,” he says, then adds, “José.” He feels dumb immediately after.

“Okay,” she smiles. “José.” She adds, before walking away. Evan’s world goes a bit dimmer after she leaves. He sighs and heads towards his classes to continue this terrible day.

* * *

Connor regretted pushing Evan as soon as he did it. He never had anything against Evan, after all they were equal in the social food chain. Both of them were losers, but Evan always hid in the background while Connor made a scene. He'd always hoped to avoid being mean to the poor kid, but he was just too high to care today. But not only was it Evan he had pushed, Evan has a fucking broken arm. Who pushes over a kid who already fucking broke their arm?

L

So when Connor sees Evan walk into the computer lab, he decides he will be nice this once. It's his last day alive, so it's not like it will matter in the long run, but Evan didn't deserve to be hurt and Connor couldn't just let that be. He follows Evan in, trying to figure out what to say. Maybe he should just act casual? He decides asking Evan about his cast is a good way to start a conversation.

Evan is typing away at a computer, nervously chewing on his lip. Connor briefly wonders what he's writing, he would normally assume it's an essay but it's only the first day of school. Then he remembers it's really none of his business what Evan is writing, he's just here to apologize for being an ass earlier. He's drawn away from his thoughts by the whirring of the printer. He notices Evan finished typing, and assumes the paper printing is Evan’s. His assumption is confirmed by the words “Dear Evan Hansen” written at the top of the page. Once the paper fully prints, Connor grabs it off the printer and heads over to where Evan sits, lost in thought.

“So, how’d you break your arm?” he asks, causing Evan to jump. Evan’s eyes widen in fear for a second, and Connor tries not to let that bother him. Evan seems to have gotten over his initial fright and is now attempting to talk.

“Well, I, uh, I f-fell out of a tree,” he stutters. Connor stares at him blankly

“Fell out of a tree,” he repeats, letting the words sink in. He supposes Evan does seem like the type of clumsy guy who would break his arm while climbing a tree. “Well if that isn't the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard.” He laughs a bit, hoping it doesn't offend Evan. The look in Evan’s eyes tells him it does, and Connor almost feels bad. Almost, because he's Connor Murphy and he doesn't feel bad.

“Yeah,” Evan agrees, laughing along, but his laugh lacks heart. Connor tries to think of something else to say to Evan, and he notices Evan’s cast is totally, completely unmarked. Of course, it's no surprise, Evan has always been a loner who only hangs around Jared Kleinman, but the sight of the blank cast unsettled Connor.

“Um, I see no one has signed your cast,” Connor points out. Evan looks sad, as though he had hoped no one would notice.

“Yeah no, I know,” he mutters. He looks so utterly dejected and alone that Connor can't help but feel bad for him, and before he knows it he's speaking again.

“Well I can sign it,” he tells Evan. His eyes widen in surprise, and Connor isn't surprised by his reaction. Hell, he's surprised he said it.

“No, you don't have to do that,” Evan protests, shaking his head and his hands, but Connor doesn't miss the gleam in his eyes, that spark that says “maybe someone cares”.

Connor lost that spark a long time ago.

“Do you have a sharpie?” he asks, a newfound determination set in. Perhaps, he could help Evan in a way no one had ever helped him. Maybe Evan could be saved, even though Connor is long beyond repair. Evan is fumbling for his sharpie, which he hands over to Connor as soon as he finds it. Connor uncaps it with a pop, then grabs Evan’s cast to sign it. He pulls a bit too roughly, and Evan whimpers a bit. Connor simply looks at him, unsure what to say because “sorry” is not a word that can leave his lips. Evan doesn't look too hurt, so Connor just continues. He scrawls across the majority of the surface of the cast. He hopes that maybe, the cast might not look so blank with his name there. Evan stares down at Connor’s name, and mutters,

“Oh great, thanks.” Connor feels like he failed when he hears no sincerity in that statement, so he attempts to brush it off.

“Yeah well, now we can both pretend we have friends,” he jokes. Evan laughs at that, and shoots him a shy smile. Between the smile and the laugh, Connor is feeling very warm and light.

“That's true,” he agrees. They fall into an awkward silence, and Connor can tell Evan wants to leave as quickly as possible. He holds out the paper he'd found on the printer, so Evan could see it. His eyes widens as soon as he catches sight of it.

“I found this on the printer,” Connor tells him. “Dear Evan Hansen, that's you isn't it?” Evan reaches out to grab it, and Connor glances down at the paper. He only skims it, but one word in particular stands out to him.

“Yes that's mine, it's just a stupid assignment,” Evan stammers out, and Connor barely hears him, too focused on that damn word.

Zoe.

Of course, of fucking course. Why did he think Evan would be above ridiculing him too? Just because they're both losers doesn't mean they're on the same side. Thoughts swirl in Connor’s mind, and a familiar burning sensation writhes in his stomach.

“Because there’s Zoe,” he reads aloud, his voice wavering slightly. “Is this about my sister?” He's surprised his voice is so calm, the burning is spreading through his body, seeking escape. He pulls the paper out of Evan’s reach, and Evan looks downright terrified.

“No no no,” Evan protests. “It's just a stupid assignment please give it back.” He reaches out his hand, as if hoping Connor will just give it back. As if Connor will be nice.

Well Connor Murphy isn't nice.

“You knew I would see this,” Connor mutters. The burning is everywhere, clouding his mind, and he knows if he doesn't control it he'll snap. He doesn't know if he wants to control it.

“What?” Evan whispers, confused.

“Yeah, you saw I was the only other one in the computer lab,” Connor continues. “So you wrote this and printed it out so I would see it.”

“Why would I do that?” Evans voice has a tinge of fear, and Connor can't blame him for being scared.

“So I could read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out!” Connor’s yelling now, but he feels strangely detached. Evan flinches away from him, as if scared he might get shoved again. Really, it's amazing Evan isn't already bleeding on the ground when Connor’s brain is too loud for him to make proper decisions. “Then you can tell everyone I'm crazy!” It wouldn't be the first time someone had said creepy things about Zoe to get him to snap. It should be the last time though.

“No, that's not-”

“Fuck you!” Connor yells at Evan before storming out, still gripping his letter. He can vaguely hear Evan pleading for Connor to give the letter back, but he doesn't care. He’s running out of the school, and the few people left in the hall part for him. He can hear them muttering, he can definitely make out the word “freak” being used multiple times along with other insults. It echoes around in his already too loud mind. Once he's out, he folds up the paper and stuff it in his pocket, then he scans the parking lot for Zoe’s car, but it's nowhere to be seen, so she probably left without him.

He hates that his parents took away his car, since it forced him to spend five extra minutes with Zoe. Five extra minutes to further ruin their relationship. It would probably go on for weeks if he kept living. His parents don't trust him with a car. It's a surprise they even trust him to be alone with Zoe. He starts on his way home, still seething with anger. Why did the one time he tries to do something right have to go so wrong? He used to think maybe the world was against him, so he figures that's it. Murphy’s law is just acting as it should. He's not allowed to be happy. He pushes through his front door, his head pounding. The burning feeling died down, and left him feeling empty. His mom is standing in the dining room, cleaning the table. She look up when he slams the door shut, giving him a smile.

“Connor, how was your first day?” she asks, as though conversation with Connor was something normal. It's not. Their family is broken to the point that they can't even talk to each other. He simply shoves past her.

“Don't fucking talk to me,” he shouts. She doesn't even flinch, years of her treating him like this has numbed her. He runs up the stairs two steps at a time and Zoe yells at him not to be so loud. “Fuck you,” he yells back. He hears her huff in frustration.

As soon as he's in his room, he locks the door then goes over to his desk. “No point in delaying this,” he mutters. He rummages through the drawers until he finds the pair of socks he hid the pills in. He vaguely considers leaving a note, maybe something that says “Fuck you, Larry.” as one last, well, fuck you to Larry. He decides against it though, deciding that leaving nothing would be better. Even though Cynthia will probably be sad, Larry and Zoe won't. It's best not to leave anything for them to mourn. They probably want him dead. Maybe they'll celebrate his death. They probably will. They're better off without him.

He pulls off his coat and replaces it with his favorite grey sweatshirt, then he lays down on his bed. He feels strangely calm considering he's about to die. He isn't sure how he's supposed to feel. Nervous? Scared? He's been planning this too long for that. He's not religious, but for a second he wonders what will come after death. He hopes nothing. He wants everything to stop. He also wonders if life really flashes before your eyes when you die. Really, his life is just eat, sleep, get high, fight some people, repeat. He's grateful he can end that, but he doesn't want to relive it before he dies.

His mind wanders back to some of his earlier memories. He remembers when Cynthia went with him to buy new clothes without Larry knowing, and he felt so rebellious. He remembers Larry enrolling him in little league, saying “all the boys do it” and trying his hardest to impress Larry, even if he hated baseball. He remembers looking for four leaf clovers in the field at Autumn Smile Orchard with Zoe, and when he couldn't find a clover Zoe said they'd share hers so they both have good luck. He remembers when they all went to A La Mode and Zoe got her sorbet in her hair. He remembers Larry flying his toy plane into a river, and he jumped after it and almost drowned. That was the end of visits to the orchard. He remembers the first skiing trip they went on with the Harrises. Connor hated skiing while Zoe loved it, but Connor was better at it. They would race down the large hills, and Connor would let Zoe win. He wanted those moments back so much, but all they ever do now is fight. Ever since he lost the ability to control his anger. Ever since he became such a mess. A freak who's creating a rift in his family. He's certain they can't be a functional family with him here. He's breaking them apart, and he can't do that to them anymore.

He takes a deep breath, and downs the pills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, constructive criticism is extremely helpful. And if you want to scream about deh with me my tumblr is @gayconnormurphy


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan talks to the Murphy's and learns about Connor's suicide attempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so i'm back with another chapter. this chapter is shorter than i intended, because i was going to try to fit all the evan parts together so i can have one long evan chapter and then one long connor chapter. however, this felt like a good place to end and i didn't want to take much longer getting this chapter out.
> 
> trigger warning for this chapter: they talk about connor's suicide attempt and evan's attempt is mentioned briefly

Three days pass with no sign of Connor, and Evan is terrified what that means. Three days since Connor ran off with his letter, three days for Connor to do - anything-. Evan also notices that Zoe has been gone for three days too. What if Connor showed her the letter and she was just so disgusted with Evan she transferred schools? God, then he made his school lose an admirable student, the jazz band lose a wonderful guitar player, and he lost a chance with the most beautiful girl ever. All of these thoughts are hard to cram in his head, and he's having trouble focusing, he's supposed to be doing homework, and he thinks he has a headache from all this thinking. Eventually, he decides maybe telling someone about this would help. He opens Skype, and video calls Jared. He picks up after a few seconds, the camera only pulling up a blurry feed before focusing on Evan’s family friend.

“Hey, Evan, what's up?” Jared asks, his tone vaguely annoyed. “You interrupted my gaming.”

“Oh, sorry,” Evan apologizes quietly. He suddenly realizes telling Jared is a stupid idea, but he needs to tell someone. “Uh actually something happened earlier in the week and I need some advice on it?” The words end up sounding more like a question than a statement. Evan bites his lip, unsure what to do.

“Okay, shoot.”

“Well, uh, on the first day of school I had a run in with Connor, um, Murphy,” Evan starts. Jared gives him a skeptical look.

“Yeah, I was wondering when your cast got signed.”

“Yeah that was then,” Evan explains. “Uh and then he saw my letter, um, I have to write letters to myself-”

“A letter to yourself?” Jared interjects, chuckling. “What the crap does that even mean? Is it some kind of sex thing?” Evan feels his face heat up, of course Jared wouldn't take this seriously.

“No no it's for therapy,” Evan mumbles. “Anyway he took it and he hasn't been to school since.”

“This does not bode well for you,” Jared comments. Evan almost rolls his eyes and holds back saying “duh”. Jared seems to be amused by his predicament.

“Do, do you think he'll show it to Zoe?” Evan asks timidly. Jared gives him an exasperated look.

“Of course he will,” He confirms, not alleviating Evan’s anxiety. “Connor Murphy is batshit out of his mind. Remember when he threw a printer at Mrs. G in the second grade cause he wasn't line leader that day?” Evan doesn't remember, and he feels like Jared is exaggerating, but he still worries.

“Oh god what if he shows the school?” Evan panics. His breathing is going out of whack, and he can feel a panic attack coming on. If Connor shows the school, they'll just think he's more disgusting than they already do. He'll always be a social outcast, and he'll forever be known as the person who wrote a sex letter to himself about Zoe Murphy.

“He's going to ruin your life,” Jared smirks. “I mean I would.” With that, Jared ends their call and leaves him to deal with his incoming panic attack. Evan crumples up on his bed, attempting to get his breathing under control. He can hear footsteps going up the stairs, probably his mom, and if she sees him like this she'll be disappointed so he definitely can't let her see him like this. He pulls the covers over himself, running himself through breathing exercises until he gets his breathing back to normal and can feign sleep. The room floods with light as Heidi opens the door. She leaves after a minute, with a quiet “goodnight”. Evan lays in bed awake, his head filled with possibilities of what Connor might do with his letter. He drifts off to a dreamless sleep at two in the morning.

He's shaken from his sleep, and he blinks, looking up at Heidi. She's giving him a soft smile.

“You were out like a log,” she laughs. “Don't worry, you're not late.” Evan sits up slowly, noting just how tired he is. He supposes there's bags under his eyes too. “I'm making pancakes since you've almost made it through your first week of senior year. Come down when you're ready.” Evan nods, and Heidi walks away, humming.

Evan stands up, and walks to his closet. He doesn't have a very diverse closet, it's mostly just filled with blue polos. He changes, then goes to fix the bags under his eyes. He keeps a bit of concealer for this very reason. After it's applied, he grabs his backpack off his desk chair, and heads downstairs. His mom is flipping pancakes and singing under her breath. Evan pulls up a chair at the table and sits down. Heidi sets a plate with three pancakes in front of him, and a plate of two in front of herself, then she sits down across from him.

“How was your week, Ev?” she asks, conversationally. It was terrible, but of course there's no way he's telling her that.

“Good,” he replies while cutting his pancakes. He doesn't even look up at her, if he does she'll know he's lying.

“That's good!” she says, maybe too excited. He meets her eyes finally, and yes, she's way too excited. He simply nods. They fall into an awkward silences, but Evan is used to awkward silences. Heidi eventually breaks it. “I see someone signed your cast.”

“Oh yeah,” Evan replies, looking at Connor’s name scrawled on his arm.

“Is Connor a friend of yours?” Heidi looks too hopeful, Evan doesn't want to tell her the truth.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I'd love to meet them!”

“Uh,” Evan isn't sure what to say. He isn't friends with Connor so obviously she can't, but he can't tell her that. She'd be so disappointed. “He's kinda anti-social so I don't know if he'd like that,” he lies. Well, it's kind of true, Connor isn't exactly a social butterfly.

“That's too bad,” Heidi says, glancing at the clock. “I've gotta get to work, love you, honey.”

“Love you too,” Evan says between bites. He's gotta get going soon too, so he scarfs down the rest of the pancakes. He hears the front door open and close as his mom leaves. The house is completely silent, a silence he is far too used to. He wishes being used to it made it so it was more comfortable for him, but it was still as lonely as always. He stands and walks out the door, locking it behind him. The fresh air is nice and calming. He walks slowly, he's got plenty of time before he has to be at school. When he finally arrives at school, he remembers all his fears. Anytime someone looks in his direction he imagines they're insulting him, saying he's disgusting and going to die alone. They're probably not wrong.

He goes through the morning on autopilot, until his third class, calculus. The speaker system crackles to life, something that doesn't happen normally.

“Evan Hansen to the principal’s office,” is all it says before going silent. People turn to stare at him, while Evan freezes, wondering what he did wrong. The teacher coughs after a minute, and Evan scrambles to grab his binder before running out the door. He hurries to the office, and the secretary directs him to the principal’s office with a sympathetic look. He walks into the room, and sees a man and a woman sitting. The man is stoic, while the woman has definitely been crying. Evan steps into the room awkwardly, and both the adults look at him with confusion.

“Uh, I was called on the speakers,” he explains, which is met with silence by both the man and woman. “Is, um, is Mr. Howard here?” The man seems to finally understand what he's saying.

“Mr. Howard stepped out,” he says. Evan nods and turns to go, but the man continues. “Would you sit down? We have to talk to you.” Evan sinks into the only open chair, across from them. When he's settled, the man continues. “We're Connor’s parents.” Evan let's out a little “oh” of acknowledgement, wondering why Mr. and Mrs. Murphy want to talk to him. Oh god, what if Connor showed them the letter and they're here to tell him to stay away from their daughter? Mr. Murphy interrupts Evans thoughts. “We didn't know that you two are friends.”

“Friends?” Evan whispers, aghast. Since when is he friends with Connor Murphy?

“Cynthia, why don't you give it to him?” Mr. Murphy says, turning to his wife. Mrs. Murphy gives him a pained look.

“I'm going as fast as I can,” she responds. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a piece of paper.

“That's not what I said,” Mr. Murphy mutters. Mrs. Murphy sends him a glare, then hands Evan the paper.

“Connor, he wanted you to have this,” she says. Evan looks at the paper, and his heart sinks when he sees what it is.

It's his letter.

“Connor gave you this?” Evan whispers. The Murphys don't seem to hear.

“We never heard about you,” Mr. Murphy explains. “Then we saw this note, “Dear Evan Hansen”. It seems pretty clear that you, at least he considered you to be his friend. I mean it's there, it's right there, Dear Evan Hansen. He wrote it.

“You think he wrote it?” Evan mutters. Both the Murphys look confused.

“These are the words he wanted to share with you.”

“I guess they were supposed to be his last words,” Mr. Murphy mutters. Mrs. Murphy lets out a sob at that.

“Um, I'm sorry, what do you mean they were supposed to be his last word?” Evan asks, confused what that is supposed to mean. Mr. Murphy looks at Mrs. Murphy so she can explain, but she shakes her head. Tears are already shining in her eyes.

“Connor tried to take his own life,” Mr. Murphy explains. Evan let's out a small gasp, and suddenly everything feels so much more personal. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be intruding on the Murphy’s grieving. His mind is reeling. “This was in his pocket. He was clearly trying to explain why he did what he did.” Mrs. Murphy is crying by now, she's so clearly broken and Evan can't help but imagine his own mom in that position. Guilt settles in his stomach, as Mr. Murphy continues, quoting the paper Evan holds. He's clearly read through it many times, as he can recite it word for word. “I wish that I was different, I wish I was a part of something-”

“Stop it, Larry,” Mrs. Murphy cries, interrupting her husband’s recitation of Evan’s letter. She sounds so broken, Evan wishes he could help her somehow, but currently he’s feeling the beginning of a panic attack coming on.

“T-that’s, um, this i-isn’t… I’m s-sorry. Connor, um, C-connor didn’t write this,” Evan stammers out, heart pounding in his chest. The Murphy’s are staring at him with twin looks of confusion.

“What does that mean?” Mrs. Murphy whispers, confusion and desperation etched in her voice.

“Connor didn’t, he didn’t write this,” Evan restates, wishing he could say something otherwise because Mrs. Murphy seems so crushed by his words.

“What does he mean?” she turns to her husband next, her words becoming louder and more rushed. He waves a hand to calm her down, which does no help.

“He’s obviously in shock,” He tells her, and Evan is slipping into even more of a panic.

“No, he didn’t,” Evan starts, trying to get them to understand, but Mrs. Murphy cuts him off, pointing to the letter.

“It’s right here.” She seems to slowly be losing her cool, growing more and more desperate each time Evan tries to deny the letter.

“I’m sorry, I should probably, can I just go now?” Evan asks, hoping that maybe if he leaves then they will give up on insisting he is friends with Connor. He desperately wants to be out of this situation, away from the broken gaze of Mrs. Murphy and the cold gaze of Mr. Murphy.

“If this isn’t, if Connor didn’t write this,” Mrs. Murphy starts crying, seemingly defeated by the possibility. Mr. Murphy puts a hand on her shoulder, interrupting her.

“Cynthia, please calm down.”

“I should go,” Evan whispers, backing away towards the door of the office. Mrs. Murphy suddenly loses all cool, and cries out to him.

“Please, did he tell you anything?” she cries, “Did you see anything-”

“I really should go,” Evan cuts her off, almost to the door now. He wishes there was something he could do to help her, but he can’t. Connor didn’t write the letter. He isn’t friends with Evan. The Murphys are simply under the belief of something that isn’t true.

“Cynthia, honey, this is not the time,” Mr. Murphy says. Mrs. Murphy turns to him, tears still falling down her face.

“If he didn’t write this, then what would we have of him?” she whispers in between sobs. “If he had died, this would be the only thing left…” She trails off, staring at the floor as silent tears fell. Mr. Murphy tries to take her hand, but she pulls away from him. She’s breaking down, and it’s impossible for Evan to watch. He hands the letter back to her.

“Here, just take it,” he says, barely noticing that Mrs. Murphy tears abruptly stop.

“Larry look, his cast,” she gasps, and Evan becomes acutely aware of both of their gazes on his broken arm. “His best and most dearest friend.” Mrs. Murphy had such a proud look on her face, so happy and content that her son has a friend. Evan knows he won't be able to deny being Connor’s friend anymore, what with Connor’s name sloppily written on his cast practically branding him. So he just gives in, despite the guilt pooling in his stomach. Mrs. Murphy is still giving him that warm look. Mr. Murphy seems to be surprised.

“Oh, Evan, I'm so glad you've been there for Connor,” Mrs. Murphy continues. “We thought he had no one, but he had you. We're going to visit him later, I'm sure he would love it if you came along.” Evan’s stomach drops, but he tries not to let it show.

“Uh, um, yeah, definitely,” Evan whispers, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this mess.

“I know!” Mrs. Murphy suddenly exclaims, startling Evan. “You can come over for dinner, then we can go to the hospital. That way we can get to know you!” The idea of visiting Connor, pretending to be his friend, while he's in the hospital already felt awful to Evan, but the idea of having to have dinner with his family first sounds ten times worse. He tried to disagree, but Mrs. Murphy looks so excited about it so he just nods, resigning himself to his fate. “How about you come over at 5, we can eat and then leave at 6?”

“Sounds great,” Evan mumbles, wishing he could sink into the floor and disappear forever. The Murphy’s stand up to leave, finally. Mrs. Murphy gives Evan a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder as she leaves. Evan wishes he could he didn't flinch. He can't. Mr. Murphy gives him a nod, which he returns. Once they're gone, he collapses on the floor. His breaths are coming out in short gasps and his brain is trying to process what just happened? Did he really pretend to be Connor’s friend? Oh God Connor’s gonna kill him for lying and then his mom will be sad and alone and the Murphy’s will be disgusted that he would lie about that and he'll have to transfer out of school because everyone would think he's gross which they probably already do but it will get even worse and they'd have to move completely so that they don't live near the Murphy’s anymore but they don't have the money to move and if they moved his mom would have to get a new job and he would probably have to drop out of school to get a job as a gas station attendant and that would be horrible and he'll have to find an even taller tree to get the job done.

He knows he wouldn't be able to survive the school day, so once he calms down enough to go to the nurse's office he does so. He can hear her talking to his mom on the phone, and then he's told that he can go home. The walk home is uneventful, although Evan’s head is crowded with thoughts and worries about his upcoming dinner and trip to the hospital. When he finally arrives at home, he crashes on his bed, feeling exhausted. He drifts off into a restless sleep only to be woken up four hours later by the ring of a Skype call. He only has one contact on Skype so it's pretty clear who is trying to call him. Evan doesn't particularly want to talk to Jared right now, but he knows if he ignores this Jared will just keep calling until he answers. Reluctantly, he accepts the call.

“Hey man, where were you in Spanish today?” he asks.

“The usual reason,” he answers, avoiding eye contact. It's not the first time he's had to leave school because of a particularly bad panic attack, but he hopes Jared won't ask about it because then he'll have to explain it and Jared will probably just laugh.

“And what caused that to happen? Did Connor show up and ruin your life?” Jared grins, but Evan sharply inhales.

“Uh, well, it was about Connor, but, um, he didn't do anything to me. It was actually his, well, his parents,” Evan explains, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Oh my God, did they find out about your sex letter?” Jared laughs.

“It's not a sex letter,” Evan insists. “But, they did, er, find it.” Jared stares at him for a second before bursting out laughing. “I mean, Connor, you see, he had it in his pocket and, well, something happened and I guess his parents found it? But they, well, they thought that it was, like, a letter from him to me. So they assumed that me and Connor are friends or something. And they, they visited me at the school to ask about our friendship. They asked me to go to their house for dinner to talk…” Evan trails off, and Jared just sits in stunned silence for a bit.

“Let me get this straight,” he says, “Connor Murphy’s parents think you and Connor are friends, so they pulled you out of class to ask about it? Wow, I always figured he had no friends but it brings him to a whole new level if his parents pull a kid out of class because they thought he was so antisocial. That's just pathetic. Holy shit.” He paused in between his sardonic laughter. “Wait a second. Why didn't you just tell them that you two aren't friends? I mean, Connor is going to kick your butt when he sees you at dinner.”

“I didn't say anything, I just,” Evan pauses, unsure how to put his thoughts into words. “I couldn't say anything. They're going through tough times and they think that their son finally has a friend I just didn't know how to take that away from them.” He isn't sure that Jared will be able to understand his point without knowing about Connor's attempt, but that's information that Jared doesn't need to know about.

“So what are you going to do?”

“Huh?”

“You two aren't friends, Connor knows this. His parents probably won't be too pleased about you lying, and Connor can tell them any second. What are you going to do?”

“I, I don't know,” Evan whispers. He's so unsure about all of this. He doesn't want to lie, but Connor’s parents seemed so happy at the prospect of their son having a friend. Or at least, his mother did. His father just looked surprised. “Maybe, uh, maybe Connor would be fine with this? I mean the other day, he mentioned, like, pretending to be friends?” Jared laughs again. His laugh is grating and cold, and Evan hates it.

“Well then, what are you going to tell them?” Evan isn't sure how to respond, so Jared continues. “Okay, here's what you have to do. You just need to nod and confirm. Don't disagree, don't contradict, and don't make crap up. It's foolproof. Trust me, I do this all the time. Half of the stuff I tell my parents isn't true, and they have no clue.” Evan nods slowly, figuring Jared probably knows best for this sort of thing. “Well, I've gotta go. Have fun, don't fuck up in front of Zoe.” Just like that, he hangs up, leaving Evan to his plight. It's then that everything clicks for Evan and he begins to panic.

He completely forgot about Zoe.

He doesn't think he can do this, he doesn't think he can sit down at the Murphy’s dining table, pretending to be friends with their son, lying to them, lying to Zoe, his crush, the most amazing girl in the whole world. But there's something that stops him from going back on it all. Connor. When he first decided he couldn't just deny being friends with Connor, it was because of his parents. But he thinks that, maybe, Connor could use a friend.

Their encounter at the library flashes through his mind. Connor had seemed so different then. Like he was trying to be different. Like he was trying to make things better. The more Evan thinks about it, the better he can remember the look in Connor’s eyes. He looked so lonely.

That's when Evan decides he'll do more than just pretend to be Connor’s friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, constructive criticism is welcomed. i want to improve my writing so please tell me if there's something you think i could work on.
> 
> feel free to stop by my tumblr @gayconnormurphy to talk about deh with me!!

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism would be great I know my writing isn't perfect and I'm always looking to improve. Also if you want to scream about deh with me on tumblr I'm @gayconnormurphy


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